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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23658133">Bad Boy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maaaaa/pseuds/maaaaa'>maaaaa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Sentinel (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Spanking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:15:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,900</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23658133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maaaaa/pseuds/maaaaa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written in 2007 for Castalie's birthday.</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bad Boy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written in 2007 for Castalie's birthday.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jim stopped just outside the loft door and took a deep breath, steeling himself. He pictured Sweetheart in his mind, visualizing a long, jagged, nasty scratch running the length of the truck…a scratch that shouldn’t be there; and a ding...several dings.</p>
<p>He winced at the image and sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck resignedly. And then he mustered as much of an air of irritation as he could manage and opened the door. He shut it with a resounding thud and purposely made an undo amount of commotion as he locked it and tossed his keys into the basket, making sure they jangled loudly as they sailed the short distance through the air.</p>
<p>Blair was perched on the edge of the couch, his butt, and the cushion it was planted on, sliding precariously toward the floor as he leaned across the coffee table and rifled through stacks of folders, books and magazines…seemingly oblivious to Jim’s presence.</p>
<p>For a moment, Jim thought Blair glanced up and looked his way. He made use of the moment to lean against the door, cross his arms, and scowl. Menacingly. He’d been mistaken, though. Blair’s gaze had been aimed at a pile of papers on the floor, not Jim.</p>
<p>Jim cleared his throat in an obvious attempt to direct Blair’s attention to him. Again, he went for menacing, and he canted his stance a bit, making use of cop-of-the-walk body language, but Blair was now totally engrossed in a magazine he’d picked up. He was leafing through it, squinting and chewing on the corner of his mouth as if deep in thought.</p>
<p>This was not going at all like Jim’d expected.</p>
<p>He squinted too, just a little; zooming in on the magazine that was so intensely interesting it had apparently caused Blair to go temporarily deaf. He had to tilt his head to read the cover, seeing as Blair was holding it upside down.</p>
<p>Right.</p>
<p>Jim suppressed a smirk and pushed off from the door. He headed toward Blair, every bit aware now that Blair was tracking his every movement. He stopped behind the couch, rested his butt against it, facing away from Blair, crossed his arms again…knowing for sure this time he’d achieved menacing…and leaned back just far enough to be nonchalant.</p>
<p>“You’ve been a bad boy, Chief,” he stated succinctly.</p>
<p>Minute trembling shivered across Blair’s skin, and Jim caught a barely-there intake of breath.</p>
<p>For a moment, Jim thought Blair was going to pretend he’d just now noticed Jim’s presence, but instead he looked up, peering over the rim of his glasses, his hair dangling freelance about his face, and tilted his head.</p>
<p>“What was that, Jim? You say something?” he asked, mustering a befuddled look.</p>
<p>“You’ve been a bad boy, Chief,” Jim repeated simply, his voice now laced with implied retribution. “And I’m gonna have to punish you.” He waited a second for a reaction, and wasn’t disappointed.</p>
<p>Blair jumped to his feet with enough momentum to dislodge the cushion he’d been on, sending it to the floor. He turned to face Jim, backing up a step as he did so, and bumped into the coffee table, jarring it enough to send most of the books and papers sliding off and onto the floor.</p>
<p>“P-punish me?” Blair squeaked. He shifted anxiously from foot to foot, and shot Jim a bewildered look.</p>
<p>Jim walked into the kitchen and opened a drawer next to the refrigerator. He pulled out a paddle and as he turned back to Blair he tapped the flat of it against the palm of his hand. He wore a look of grim determination on his face and nodded his head slowly.</p>
<p>Blair’s agitation was palpable now and his eyes flickered indecisively between Jim, the front door, the room under the steps, and the hall leading to the bathroom, as if judging his best avenue of escape.</p>
<p>Jim weighed the options. There was a fire escape through the French doors, but little to no chance of Blair getting to it. The bathroom would be impossible to attain, with Jim positioned where he was, and at best only a temporary refuge. Jim’d have no difficulty picking the lock from the outside. They both knew the front door was the most viable option.</p>
<p>Blair hadn’t taken even the few seconds Jim did; his decision was almost instantaneous. He made a dash for the door. Jim overtook him a split second after he reached it. He grabbed Blair around the waist from behind, hoisted him up off his feet, and spun around.</p>
<p>“Wait, Jim, man, come on,” Blair panted, his voice ragged and laced with nervous laughter, but not panicky. He struggled against Jim’s hold, his legs flailing with just enough force to bang Jim’s shins soundly. His elbow movement was restricted by the tight grip around his middle, but he still managed to jab Jim’s ribcage once or twice.</p>
<p>It was a short trip from the door to the couch, where Jim flipped Blair face down over the couch back. Blair immediately tried to stand up, but, with a firm grip on the seat of his pants, Jim was able to thwart the attempt by levering him further forward. Blair’s feet left the floor and Jim’s left hand in the small of his back…broad, warm and unyielding…held him in place. Jim tucked the paddle in the waistband of his jeans; in the spot his gun usually went.</p>
<p>“What happens to bad boys, Chief?” Jim questioned as his right hand came down hard and swift, three times, on Blair’s backside.</p>
<p>Blair gulped once, then again, but didn’t answer. The rush of blood to his head from the sudden change of position left him a little dizzy and the tingling warmth the three swats left in their wake made him feel giddy.</p>
<p>Jim patted Blair’s ass gently a few times, waiting patiently for Blair’s reply; needing to hear a reply before continuing. He traced the seam of Blair’s jeans with two fingertips, along the hidden crevice of skin beneath the softly worn fabric, down between his legs where he could feel Blair’s balls tighten.</p>
<p>Blair’s breathing evened out before he answered in an acquiescent rasp, “Bad boys get spanked.” He pushed into Jim’s hand, imploringly.</p>
<p>“That’s right, Chief,” Jim agreed. He stroked Blair’s ass a few times, then spanked him again with measured, stinging swats.</p>
<p>When Blair hissed, between raggedy drawn in breaths, “More, please, Jim, damn, oh,” Jim complied. He maneuvered Blair so he could undo his fly and then yanked his jeans and boxers down to his knees. Still holding Blair in place, he reached down and one-handedly snaggled Blair’s sneakers off and then dispensed with the jeans and boxers. He had to slap Blair’s ass a few times during the process in order to get the task accomplished with the co-operation of the stripee. He spanked with his hand again, wanting the feel of skin on skin, sliding his fingers between Blair’s cheeks every few swats, caressing and fondling his balls and hardening cock. Then he slipped the paddle out and rested it on Blair’s pink bottom.</p>
<p>A shuddery whimper escaped Blair’s lips and he tensed his butt cheeks. Jim let Blair adjust to the notion of what was coming next and waited until Blair’s muscles relaxed.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry my bad boy, you’re not out of the woodshed yet,” Jim warned with a hint of fond amusement in his voice. He once again pictured his beloved Sweetheart all battered and bruised, as he paddled Blair’s butt to a rosy hue.</p>
<p>The paddle was a sturdy make of fine leather, chosen by Jim for its flexibility. It made a crisp, thwacking sound that reverberated through the loft, offset nicely by Blair’s low moaned grunts and sharp inhalations of breath. The scent of pre-cum filled Jim’s nostrils, blending with Blair’s musk, swirling maddeningly in the air.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jim dropped the paddle without warning and pulled Blair upright; he took just a moment to chortle at the sight of Blair’s flushed, cross-eyed, somewhat disgruntled features. He smiled appreciatively at the sight of Blair’s impatient cock as his own erection twitched against its confinement. He kissed Blair’s lips…a quick, soft peck, and then slid slowly to his knees. As he took Blair’s cock into his mouth, he squeezed his ass, bringing Blair to his tiptoes with a startled yip.</p>
<p>Blair dug his fingertips into Jim’s shoulders to steady himself, and then dropped back onto the soles of his feet as he started rocking into Jim’s mouth.</p>
<p>“Am I still a bad boy?” he taunted daringly in a husky whisper.</p>
<p>Jim’s eyes flickered upward with a malevolent glint and he answered Blair by slapping his butt soundly as he renewed the task of sucking his dick.</p>
<p>Blair came with a shudder and a disoriented sounding chuckle. He leaned into Jim, and pressed Jim’s head to his stomach as he rode out the last quivering spurts of his orgasm.</p>
<p>Within seconds, their positions were reversed. Blair barely had time to fumble Jim’s fly open, nuzzle the soft, tight thatch of curls, kiss the tip of Jim’s wobbly cock, and slurp his tongue across the length, before Jim was coming.</p>
<p>They stayed there for several long moments, panting and caressing each other until a coherent sense of equilibrium returned. Jim toed off his shoes, and shucked his bottoms completely, nudging them to one side with his foot. He helped Blair up, and kissed him forcefully before guiding him to the couch, kicking errant magazines and papers out of his way. He replaced the upended cushion and then plopped onto the couch on his back, and pulled Blair down on top of him, front to front.</p>
<p>Blair snuggled close, rubbing his face against Jim’s chest, ghosting fingertips along his upper arm. He looked at Jim through disheveled curls with a grin on his face as he asked, “What’d I do this time?”</p>
<p>Jim sighed. His right hand was prickly-hot and he still felt the sting. His left hand petted Blair’s ass with lazy strokes and he could only imagine how much it smarted. It was certainly still very hot.</p>
<p>“You took the truck without asking,” he answered wearily. His eyes were closed, but the corners of his mouth twitched.</p>
<p>“Again?” Blair questioned and he poked Jim in the ribs.</p>
<p>“Ow, hey watch it, Slugger,” Jim carped as he was reminded of the jabs Blair’d landed earlier. He patted Blair’s butt in mock warning. “This time you scratched her,” Jim sniffed indignantly, “and dented her. You were a very bad boy.”</p>
<p>Blair snorted and cozied up to Jim, getting more comfortable. “If you wanna spank me, Jim,” he reasoned, “all you have to do is tell me. You mighta noticed by now I really get off on it?”</p>
<p>Jim cracked one eye open and narrowed it, conveying that this was hardly news to him. Then he shrugged and hugged Blair tighter. “Yeah, I know. But I like the bad boy game,” he said in a put-out, almost pouty voice. “Of course, if you ever really do take Sweetheart without asking, much less incur even the tiniest ding---,” Jim said sternly, leaving the threat dangling, but the pat to Blair’s behind held real warning this time.</p>
<p>Blair laughed, wiggled his ass, scooted down a few inches, and blew a raspberry against Jim’s navel.</p>
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